Harry's Sick Detention with Professor Snape
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Harry is feeling unwell but has to serve detention with Professor Snape. Fortunately, he can rely on his Head of House to save him. Minerva and Poppy won't be too pleased with Severus. Fifth year, AU because Umbridge is ignored completely, sick!Harry
1. Chapter 1

**Harry's Sick Detention with Professor Snape **

"Well, it was hard to find you today, do you know that?" Harry told the Snitch, while he closed his hand around the struggling golden ball, which had been able to escape for more than three hours on this bright, sunny day at the end of May in Harry's fifth school year at Hogwarts.

As soon as he caught the Snitch, the Gryffindor part of the Quidditch pitch exploded in applause. They had just managed to win the Quidditch cup over Slytherin.

Harry slowly took a shower and walked up to the Gryffindor common room, where a huge party was just about to begin when he arrived. An hour into the party, Professor McGonagall entered the room, causing the younger students to quiet down immediately, until the Weasley twins handed her a butterbeer and coaxed her into attending the party for a while.

"Mr. Potter," the professor came over to Harry. "I'm very sorry; I tried to convince Professor Snape to let you serve your detention tomorrow or on Monday, but he insists that you must come to the Potions classroom for your detention at seven o'clock tonight."

"All right," Harry replied slightly disappointed. "Thanks for trying, Professor."

"You're welcome, Mr. Potter. Try to be polite and do as you're told; maybe he'll let you go earlier," the teacher replied, giving Harry a compassionate smile.

Shortly later, Harry noticed that he wasn't feeling too well and decided to lie down for a while. '_Strange; I didn't drink any butterbeer so far_,' he thought wearily. "Can you wake me up at half past six please?" he asked Hermione and Ron, before he retreated to his dormitory.

"What's wrong with him?" Professor McGonagall asked astonished.

"He only told us he wanted to sleep for a while," Hermione replied. "Maybe he is tired. He often has problems with nightmares and visions during the nights. That's why he was so tired in Potions yesterday that he managed to blow up his cauldron and earn himself the detention tonight."

"All right; please don't forget to wake him up; he cannot miss his detention. If he feels unwell, he'll have to go to Madam Pomfrey to be excused for tonight," the professor advised the two fifth years, before she retreated to her office.

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A few hours later, Harry dragged himself down to the Potions classroom. He was still not feeling well. His stomach felt queasy, his head hurt, and he felt slightly dizzy. '_I'd prefer to go back to bed, but there's no way I can get around my detention. Snape will be angry enough that McGonagall tried to get me out of the detention for tonight_,' he thought, before he summoned all his courage and hesitantly knocked at the door of the Potions classroom.

Fortunately, he was called in quickly. "You will clean all these cauldrons the Muggle way," Professor Snape told him. "Hand over your wand, Potter."

Harry grudgingly handed the teacher his wand and sat down in front of a table containing at least a dozen dirty cauldrons, glad to be able to sit down. He started to clean the first cauldron; however, he noticed soon that his stomach didn't only feel queasy, but that it wanted to empty its contents. Glad that the professor had retreated to his office, Harry hurried to the near-by bathroom to throw up – an action that he had to repeat several times during the next few hours.

'_If I ever feel unwell again when I have to serve detention, I will go to Madam Pomfrey instead_,' Harry promised himself, while he cleaned another cauldron with closed eyes because the whole world seemed to turn around whenever he opened his eyes.

When Harry came back from the bathroom the fifth time, the professor had just come out of his office and was examining the cauldrons, which Harry had already cleaned. Seeing the boy, he asked harshly, "What do you think you're doing, Potter? Get on with your work."

"I'm sorry Professor; I don't feel well," Harry mumbled, feeling absolutely horrible and dizzy by now.

"I don't care if you miss your party, and if you already drank too much butterbeer, it's not my fault either," the professor sneered. "You will remain here until you've cleaned all these cauldrons, and I don't care if you stay here until tomorrow morning." With that, the teacher retreated to his office. '_Well, maybe he is really unwell; he was very pale_,' he mused and decided to wait another thirty minutes and offer the student to let him go if he returned to continue his task on the next day.

However, before the professor could show the boy the slightest amount of kindness, his Dark Mark flared and he hurriedly had to answer the Dark Lord's call. When he looked into the classroom to quickly let Harry go for the day, he was not in the classroom, and Severus merely contacted the headmaster and hastily left his quarters.

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Curfew came and passed, and there was still no sign from Harry. "Where is Harry? He should be back by now," Hermione asked Ron in concern.

"The greasy git seems to be keeping him overly long today," Ron replied sourly. "He probably doesn't want Harry to return to the Quidditch party."

When another hour passed, Hermione became too worried. "Ron, let's speak with Professor McGonagall. I think Harry wasn't feeling well when he went to his detention. Maybe something happened to him on the way."

"Shall we go and search for him?" Ron asked, getting worried now too.

"No! Ronald! It's nearly midnight and long after curfew," Hermione replied in exasperation.

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"I will go down to the Potions classroom and see what is wrong," Professor McGonagall promised. She transformed into her cat form and dashed away in the direction of the dungeons. When she entered the Potions classroom, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Harry was sitting at a table, his head resting on a cauldron that was turned upside down, his hands cleaning another cauldron, while he had his eyes closed. Only his hands' movement showed her that her student was still awake. Moreover, she noticed that the boy's face was completely white, while his cheeks were flushed and he looked outright ill.

The professor stepped over to the table, and carefully as not to frighten the boy called out, "Harry? Are you all right?"

Harry slowly raised his head and hesitantly opened his eyes, trying to avert them to the teacher. "No Professor, I don't feel well."

"I can see that," Minerva replied softly. "Why didn't you tell Professor Snape that you're sick?"

"I told him, but he said that I had to finish this, even if it took until tomorrow morning," Harry whispered, feeling his stomach churn again. "Sorry, I'm going to be sick," he mumbled and tried to fight the dizziness in order to get up. However, he felt himself being pushed down, and a bucket appeared straight in front of him not a second too early, because his stomach already began to empty the last bit of its content.

"Better now?" the professor enquired, quickly throwing a scourgifying spell at the bucket.

"No," Harry replied. "I've thrown up at least ten times during my detention, and I feel very dizzy." He put his elbows on the table and rested his head on his hands, closing his eyes again, until he suddenly felt a cool hand on his forehead.

"You're burning up, Harry. I will put you on a stretcher and take you to the hospital wing," his Head of House told him in a soft voice. She conjured a stretcher and helped Harry to lie down.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry mumbled apologizing. "Sorry for being such a burden."

"You are not a burden, and it's not your fault that you are ill," the professor replied gently. "Where is Professor Snape, by the way?"

"I don't know; I haven't seen him for hours," Harry replied wearily, curling up as well as he could on the stretcher.

"Well, I will have a word with him later on," the Transfigurations professor threatened, while she began to make Harry float in front of her. In the hospital wing, she quickly levitated Harry on a bed, before she called Madam Pomfrey.

While Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Harry, Professor McGonagall explained what happened, causing the Medi-witch to frown in anger. "I will speak a word with Severus, Minerva," she said upset, while she summoned two potions. She gently helped Harry to sit up and made him swallow the first potion. "This should help your stomach to settle down enough to keep the fever reducer down," she explained in a soft voice. "You have sunstroke, Mr. Potter, and I'm going to keep you here for the moment." She made him drink the other potion, before she helped him lie down again and gently tucked him in. "Try to sleep, Mr. Potter; you'll feel better soon."

"Too much flying in the sun today?" Harry's Head of House enquired in a small voice.

"Probably, Minerva. The poor child; sunstroke is much worse than the wizard's flu; but he'll be all right by Monday," Madam Pomfrey whispered back.

Professor McGonagall sat down on the edge of Harry's bed and carefully bathed his flushed face with a cool cloth, whispering calmingly to the child, until she noticed that his breathing evened out and he was peacefully asleep.

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_I am not a native speaker of English. So please excuse my mistakes – or tell me, so that I can correct them!_

_All recognizable characters belong to __Mrs. Rowling__, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When Harry's mind slowly turned to awareness, it was dark outside. '_Why did I wake up?_' he mused, confused, when his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Madam Pomfrey's fast footsteps. She hurried straight to the bed next to Harry, where Harry could see a blurry figure. He tried to sit up and reach for his glasses in order to see what could be wrong at that time of the night; however, he still felt too dizzy and noticed that his stomach was beginning to do flip-flops as soon as he tried to bring himself in an upright position.

"What happened, Severus?" the Medi-witch's soft voice penetrated his ears.

'Snape?' Harry thought, panicking for some reason that he couldn't explain. '_What is he doing here? Did he catch whatever I have from me? But no, that's impossible, is it? Well, thank God Madam Pomfrey is here_.' Harry tried to see what was happening next to him, but everything was too blurry to see anything; moreover, he felt too unwell to care and finally closed his eyes again.

A few minutes later, Harry noticed by the magic floating through his body that Madam Pomfrey was checking on him. He blinked and whispered, "Did something happen, Madam Pomfrey?"

Seeing that he was awake, Madam Pomfrey sat down on the edge of his bed. "Professor Snape was hurt at a Death eater meeting. How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Not much better," Harry admitted in a small voice. "Could you give me a bucket or something in case I have to throw up again, please?"

"I will do that, Harry," Madam Pomfrey replied, gently feeling his forehead. "And I will give you another Stomach calming potion and another Fever reducer, and then you'll go back to sleep, okay?"

"Kay," Harry mumbled and sighed in relief when the Medi-witch didn't force him to sit up but spelled the potions straight into his stomach. Seconds later, he already drifted off to sleep.

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A short while later Harry woke up to strange sounds coming from the bed next to him. He tried to sit up once more, and due to the potions Madam Pomfrey had given him a short while ago, he managed to sit up and put his glasses on, when he noticed that the professor in the bed next to him was groaning as if he was in an immense amount of pain. Without even thinking about it, Harry carefully got up and stepped over to the other bed, holding on to the night tables to fight the dizziness that overcame him again.

Harry let himself sink on the edge of the professor's bed and asked urgently, "What's wrong, Professor? Can I help you?"

"Potion wasn't strong enough, need another dose," the teacher replied moaning. "Can you get Pomfrey?" he asked in a voice that didn't contain any malice but was filled with pain.

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey, sir," Harry quickly replied and headed over to the Medi-witch's office as fast as he could, tightly holding on to the beds and then to the walls until he reached the door. He urgently knocked at the door, before he let himself sink on the floor, leaning his back against the wall.

A minute later, the healer hurried out of her office, shocked to see Harry sitting on the floor next to her office. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked surprised.

"It's Professor Snape," Harry replied softly. "He told me the potion wasn't strong enough, and he seems to be in a lot of pain."

"All right, Harry, stay where you are; I'll be there and help you in a minute," Madam Pomfrey replied and hurried back into her office to grab a potion, before she strode over to the professor's bed. A minute later, she returned and gently helped Harry back into bed. "Thank you, Harry, for calling me. You helped Professor Snape immensely."

"Is he all right now?" Harry asked in concern, while she let himself sink back on his pillow in exhaustion.

"He is asleep now, and when he wakes up he will be all right," Poppy replied softly, '_at least until Minerva and I are through with him_,' she added silently to herself.

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In the morning, Harry still felt absolutely awful and complied immediately when Madam Pomfrey told him to try to sleep after she had forced his potions through his throat. When he woke up around lunchtime, he noticed several blurry figures around the professor's bed; however, he couldn't hear anything. '_Probably, they have put up a Silencing spell_,' Harry mused and quickly closed his eyes when he felt his stomach churn again.

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"When I entered the Potions classroom at midnight, Mr. Potter had only finished about half of the cauldrons, which he had to clean during the evening. Did you neither wonder nor ask him why he didn't proceed at the expected pace? Did it not occur to you to even ask? Are you that petty about losing the House cup?"

"Potter is an absolute and completely incompetent dunderhead at Potions; why would he be able to clean cauldrons better than to brew Potions?" the professor replied, smirking.

"Mr. Potter left the room to throw up several times, which in my estimation was a major mistake; he should have thrown up into your face. This is why it took him so much time to clean the cauldrons. He was being courteous; should I instruct him the next time he's feeling ill to visit you? I'm sure the Weasley twins could make a fortune making photographs of the visit. Tell me honestly, Severus, why did you not let Mr. Potter go, when he told you that he didn't feel well?" Professor McGonagall asked angrily.

"Why would I believe Potter, the incompetent nitwit, who clearly would want to return to his Quidditch party with all his excited fans?" Professor Snape sneered. "And if he felt unwell it was because of drinking too much Butterbeer. It isn't my fault, if he's unable to hold his liquor just like his drunken sot of a father and his fur ball side-kick."

"Mr. Potter didn't drink Butterbeer at all," the Gryffindor Head of House replied, her mouth stretched to a thin line.

"Yes, and I'm the minister of magic. All these dunderheads drink Butterbeer at their parties and fire whiskey no doubt, Minerva. Do you really believe a fifteen-year-old, who tells you he didn't drink?" Snape raised an eyebrow at his older colleague.

"Yes, I do believe Mr. Potter, because he only spent half an hour at the party in my presence, before he went to lie down because he was feeling unwell and knew that he had to serve detention in the evening," McGonagall answered icily.

"Mr. Potter is suffering from sunstroke, and you can be glad that Minerva found him during the night, so that Potter could come and get me to help you recover from your little meeting, when your potions wore off," Madam Pomfrey threw in. "The next time, if a student, who is in your care, be it in detention, in class, or whatever, tells you that he or she is feeling unwell, you will call me immediately; is that clear, Severus Tobias Snape?"

"Yes," the professor replied grudgingly, throwing the Medi-witch a menacing glare. '_Wait; what did she say? Potter called her for me during the night? Oh no!_' he thought, groaning inwardly.

"Don't give me that glare, young man," he was scolded immediately. "When you return Mr. Potter his wand, you will apologize to him and thank him for calling me for you during the night. Do you understand me?"

The professor gave her a short nod and stood up. "If you will excuse me then..."

"Where do you think you're going?" his two colleagues asked simultaneously.

"To retrieve Potter's wand," he replied shortly and strode to the fireplace in Madam Pomfrey's office.

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When Harry woke up in the afternoon, he noticed a blurry black figure sitting on a chair next to his bed. Still feeling dizzy, he quickly closed his eyes again until he heard a soft, silky voice speak to him. "May I disturb you for a moment, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nearly jumped in fright and quickly opened his eyes once more when he recognized the voice, even if it was void of any malice for once.

"I am sorry, Mr. Potter, for not believing you that you were ill last night," the professor told him in an equally soft voice.

"It's all right," Harry replied, uncomfortably shifting in his bed. "You couldn't know, sir."

"I could have believed you and I regret that I didn't. Moreover, I would like to thank you for calling Madam Pomfrey for me during the night."

"No problem, professor," Harry replied softly, adding, "I'm sorry; I left the cauldrons just as they were on the table, when Professor McGonagall came to fetch me. I'll go to the Potions classroom and finish my detention as soon as Madam Pomfrey lets me go."

Harry nearly jumped startled when he suddenly felt the professor's cool hand on his forehead. "Madam Pomfrey will definitely not let you go today, and I believe that you served enough of your detention yesterday; I will clean the remaining cauldrons using magic," Professor Snape told him in his silky voice. The teacher suddenly pressed a phial against Harry's lips, motioning him to swallow, immediately followed by a second potion, which Harry recognized as the fever reducing potion.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry mumbled gratefully, while he drifted off into a blissful sleep.

**The End**

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I am not a native speaker of English. So please excuse my mistakes – or tell me, so that I can correct them!

_All recognizable characters belong to __Mrs. Rowling__, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


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